The real reason this biography of Ludwig van Beethoven is called "Immortal Beloved" is quite simple. They couldn't call it "Beethoven" . . . for obvious reasons. (There's no dog in this one.)
But the title works, because the phrase "Immortal Beloved" is this movie's "Rosebud," as it takes "Citizen Kane's" investigative plot and crosses it with "Amadeus."
The film begins with the death and elaborate funeral of the famed German composer (played by Gary Oldman, who takes on his "Bram Stoker's Dracula" look for the opening shot). Then, the rest of the film follows devoted friend and secretary Anton Schindler (Jeroen Krabbe), as he attempts to discover the identity of the title character, a mysterious woman who is referred to in Beethoven's final letter, a handwritten last will and testament.
Schindler's first discovery is that this woman apparently had an aborted hotel rendezvous with Beethoven, which led to his behaving like a petulant rock star. In the first of several flashbacks, we see him tear the hotel room apart . . . and he doesn't pay for the damages.
The one concrete piece of evidence Schindler obtains is an illegible signature from the hotel register. And he's off to solve the mystery.
His two primary suspects are a pair of tempestuous countesses (Valeria Golino, Isabella Rossellini), who explain to Schindler their relationships with Beethoven. And we come to see that the musical genius was a wild-eyed, arrogant jerk who became more and more unbearable with age, and, it is suggested, as his deafness worsened with the passing years.
Beethoven's antisocial behavior is also credited to his drunken and abusive father, who may have inadvertently contributed to Beethoven's musical genius by driving him to inward expressions of passionate rage.
The person who suffers most at Beethoven's angry hand, however, is his sister-in-law Johanna (Johanna Ter Steege). He is extremely abusive toward her, and late in the film he manages to gain custody of her son. (In one of the film's lengthier passages, he attempts to make the boy a musical prodigy, though he has no talent — which ultimately drives the lad to violence.)
In the end, writer/director Bernard Rose ("Candyman," "Paperhouse") does identify Beethoven's "Immortal Beloved," but, of course, his conclusions are purely speculative.
"Immortal Beloved" is an elaborate production, with wonderful sets, costumes and an authentic period feel. And Rose wisely makes wonderful use of Beethoven's music, allowing various pieces to underscore the film's meandering, episodic plotting.
Most of the performances are good, as well, though in the central role, Oldman tends to be all over the map. A talented actor, Oldman nonetheless needs to be controlled, and there are scenes here that ring false as he goes ridiculously over the top. On the other hand, Rose also peaks out a time or two, most notably in the climactic performance of the "Ninth Symphony," which takes on heavy-handed symbolism as the filmmaker takes one last stab at getting inside Beethoven's head.
There are also some hauntingly beautiful scenes, however, best exemplified by an exquisite moment that has the composer laying his head on a piano as he plays, so he can feel the vibrations. It is one of the film's few subtle touches, so savor it.
"Immortal Beloved," rated R for violence, a rape scene, nudity and sexual content, is not as out of control as the Ken Russell classical-composer biographies ("The Music Lovers," "Mahler," "Lisztomania") — but it's not for lack of trying.
At one point, when a very young Beethoven declines to put his talent on public display, his father is told, "He's no Mozart." Oh, well. This movie's no "Amadeus."